


Interrogation Techniques

by RedTeamShark



Series: With My Little Eye [7]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Ableist Language, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Gen, Gun Violence, Just Bad Cop, M/M, Mercenaries, There Is No Good Cop, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 21:57:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7987633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedTeamShark/pseuds/RedTeamShark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something goes terribly wrong. Something that was never in the plans. 6 and the Hunters are evenly matched, Gavin knows this. This sort of thing was never a possibility.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interrogation Techniques

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place between [Chapter 3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7840090/chapters/17901067) and [Chapter 4](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7840090/chapters/17901094) of No Man's Land.

Routine, it was supposed to be routine. Gavin was on watch detail, Ray was hacking, and Ryan was guarding Ray. Except something went wrong, something unexpected happened and that sort of thing was _never_ supposed to happen.

Even afterwards it’s a blur. Gavin closed his eyes, trying to think it through. They’d split up, no other choice when things went bad. He had a new voice mail from Geoff, demanding that he drop everything and get back to headquarters as soon as possible.

One of the members of 6 had been caught.

He stumbled into the apartment late, immediately being enveloped into Ryan’s arms, the older man demanding to know if he had any information on Ray. Gavin only shook his head, kicking the door shut behind him and pushing away, falling into the bed. He curled up under the sheets, shaking and wondering just what it was that made him so sick inside. It was a set back to his goal if Ray was captured, but that shouldn’t have given him the sick feeling that was rolling around inside his stomach.

Ryan sat down beside him, rubbing his back and telling him to get some rest. He felt the hands on him until he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

–

“Morning, asshole.” Michael dropped one booted foot heavily onto the table, smiling widely at the man in front of him. A slim, slightly tan man probably younger than even Gavin, wearing only a black tank-top and fatigue pants. He’d been stripped of weapons and gear, carefully searched while he was unconscious before Michael had cuffed him into the chair. Cuffed his hands and his feet; Michael wasn’t taking any chances.

“Wha…?” A confused mumble from the dark-haired man, turning into a sharp cry as Michael grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face down onto the table. He held him there for a moment, one hand fisted into his short hair before he yanked up, nearly ripping his hair from his scalp.

“So you’re part of 6, huh? You cocksuckers have been nothing but a fucking nuisance for way too long.” Michael pushed himself up to sit on the table, scooting over until he was in front of the bound man. He planted his boots firmly on the man’s thighs, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward to stare him in the face. “What’s your name, shithead?”

“F… fuck you…” The response was only a hesitant mumble, though, fear already in deep brown eyes. Michael grinned, leaning back on his hands.

“Aw, if that’s how you wanna play it.” He agreed with teasing sincerity, lifting his boot and slamming it into the man’s stomach. He watched him slump forward, hearing the wheezing, choking way he drew in a breath. Though Michael’s wide grin remained, his voice was suddenly dark. “I guess I’ll have to get rough.”

–

Ryan was asleep when he woke up, sitting up in the desk chair facing the door with one hand on his pistol. Gavin carefully slid from the bed, chewing his lip as he dressed. He moved through the apartment like a ghost, slipping out the front door without once disturbing the sleeping man. Outside he exhaled slowly, focusing himself as he hurried over to where the Hunter’s interrogation facility was. He called Geoff on the way, letting him know that he’d gotten the message and would be there soon.

“Michael’s in with him right now.” Geoff informed him over the phone as Gavin hurried through crowded streets. “Getting some information from him, I think. I want you here in five minutes, Gavin.” His boss was all business this morning and Gavin swallowed roughly.

“I’ll be there.” He agreed, hanging up the phone and making sure to switch off his communicator that kept him in touch with the other members of 6. He had to be careful, with any luck he could get out of this without being found out… or at least be able to get in touch with his contact for extraction before things got too far along.

For now, though, there was no time for anything but reacting. He had to catch up as soon as possible, figure it out, plan his next move. No time, no time, Gavin forced himself to slow down, taking a few deep breaths. He had to calm down, panic would do absolutely nothing for him. As long as Ray and Ryan didn’t see him with the Hunters he’d be alright. He had to be careful not to give away any information to Geoff, Jack, or Michael that he shouldn’t have. He could do this, he was trained to do this. Michael may have been a fierce interrogator, but he thought Ray would be able to stand up to it. At least long enough for Gavin to plan his next move.

Calmed down, Gavin climbed the stairs that led to the interrogation room, letting himself in. Geoff looked up from the computer monitors that showed the room, nodding slightly. “You missed a fucking hell of a night, Gavin.”

“So I heard.” He smiled widely, stepping over and looking over Jack’s shoulder at the monitor. “We have any information yet?”

“He hasn’t said a word.” The bearded man sighed, pushing a file towards him. Gavin lifted it, skimming the contents as Jack spoke. “From what he had on him all we know is that the group calls themselves 6—that’s a numeric, not a spelling—and there’s three members. Best guess is that one of them is a hacker, one’s a security counter-measure guy, and one’s… sort of a defense for the hacker. We think we have their hacker, though. I pulled quite a bit of computer counter-measures from his wrist communicator before it was shut down.” Jack made a face, sighing. “Remote shut-down. They know we have him, they’ll probably be after him soon. It probably has a transmitter in it, too, so they’ll know where we are.”

Gavin frowned, tapping his fingers on the desk. “So why haven’t we moved on?”

Geoff answered him, grinning widely and crossing his tattooed arms. “Because I want them to know where we are. I want them to come running right at us. Then we can take all three of those motherfuckers down.”

“Makes sense.” Gavin agreed, taking a seat on the couch and beginning to flip through the file. “How long has Michael been in with him?”

“About an hour since he woke up the first time. Guy’s got guts, staying in a room with Michael for an hour when he’s that pissed.” Jack sighed, turning from the monitor to his laptop. “Oh, hey, I might have something.” He declared, tapping a few keys, frowning at the information on screen. Jack sighed again, leaning back and removing his glasses to rub his eyes. “Nope, another false alarm. These guys are fucking elusive.”

“We’ll get what we want from them…” Geoff grinned, leaning on the table and watching the feed from the interrogation room closely.

–

“Feel like talking yet, bitch?” The guy hissed into his ear, slamming Ray’s face against the table again. There was already a fairly impressive puddle of blood on the gleaming metal surface and his face squelched against it, smearing more red liquid over him. Ray grit his teeth, resolutely not answering.

He was dizzy, the constant head trauma definitely doing no favors. And he was more than a little scared; this guy was a fucking psychopath. The last time he’d been seen something like this… Ray resolutely shut out the thoughts. This wasn’t Puerto Rico and if his captors really wanted answers they weren’t going to kill him. He was the only one they had, after all.

_Ryan, Gavin, just stay away…_ The man thought as he was roughly yanked up from the table again. He flexed his wrists against the steel cuffs that bound them, fervently hoping to feel even a little weakness in them. Of course not.

“Guess you only open your mouth when it’s to take in cock, huh, you little fucker?” A rough hand gripped his throat, squeezing and forcing his breath away. “Little hacking bitch. Where’s your back-up now, huh? Where’s the motherfucker that knocked me out? I know for sure it wasn’t you, with your little bitch-arms. I wanna see this guy, and I wanna make you watch while I fuck him up.” He wasn’t even sure what the curly-haired mercenary was talking about anymore, his thoughts dizzy. All that kept repeating in his head was the begging mantra for his team mates and lovers to stay away. He’d rather die than see the two of them hurt.

His throat was finally released, a booted foot landing on his back and knocking the chair he was bound to onto the floor. Ray squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to flinch at the sound of approaching bootsteps.

He hadn’t said a word since the initial ‘fuck you,’ barely letting out grunts of pain no matter what happened. If he could just…

“I think I know how to punish a hacker…” The voice whispered in his ear, back to that deadly calm that really terrified him. He could handle the anger easily, could use it to look for an opening for escape. Even the glee was okay, scary as fuck but at least it meant the guy felt _something_. The calm, though, the way his voice went flat and inflectionless… it made Ray’s heart seize up in his chest. It was the kind of calm that he’d heard in the voices of the men in that Puerto Rican prison cell, just before they’d started shooting…

One of his wrists was uncuffed abruptly, a firm hand at his elbow preventing him from trying to break free. His hand was pulled away from his body, laid palm down on the floor next to his head. Ray watched, unable to look away as a large black boot settled onto the back of his hand. “See you fucking type now, motherfucker.” Pressure on his hand, steadily increasing, pain, so much pain.

The guy suddenly slammed all his weight onto the boot on the back of Ray’s hand.

Bones shattered and Ray screamed.

–

All three men in the other room looked up as Michael exited the interrogation room. He shrugged before shaking his head. “No information. He passed out after I crushed his hand. What a fucking wimp.” He was still seething, still dangerous. No one moved to approach him, even Geoff taking a slight step backwards as Michael walked by. The auburn-haired man sat on the couch next to Gavin, resting his head lightly on the other man’s shoulder. “Nice of you to show up, fuckface.”

“Good to see you too.” Gavin smiled, setting a hand lightly over Michael’s, keeping his eyes on the file. “Feeling okay?” He asked, voice lowered in an effort to hide the conversation from the two older men on the other side of the room.

“I need to stay here.”

Gavin nodded, removing his hand from Michael’s. He understood that, Michael was going to have to go back in there as soon as the guy woke up, calming down too much from his current state would be counter-productive. Still, he was concerned, just slightly. He hadn’t seen this kind of aggression in a long time and it seemed to be escalating rapidly. Michael had already advanced to actual pain.

“Gavin.” Geoff’s voice made him look up, blinking to clear the thoughts from his head.

“Yeah, Geoff?” Gavin set the file aside, lifting an eyebrow slightly.

“You’ve got medical training, right?”

“A little bit. You want me to go in there?” His heart started pounding at the idea, though his face remained calm. He couldn’t go in there, if Ray woke up and recognized him…

“Not yet. But if things get rough I’ll send you in for a little good cop, bad cop. Michael, you gonna punch him in the face if he pulls you off the little prick?”

Next to him, Michael stretched his arms out, sitting up and shaking his head. “I won’t hit Gavin.”

“We’ll see if we need to do it, then.” Geoff tapped his fingers on the desk, reaching for the empty tumbler glass before him. “Shit…” He muttered, setting it down and looking around. The interrogation room was free of alcohol, one of Geoff’s own rules. That didn’t mean he liked following the rule, though.

Gavin stood, unaware of the item that fell from his pocket as he did so. He set the file on Geoff’s desk, leaning over the older man’s shoulder and looking at the monitor. Before he could say anything, Michael’s voice behind him spoke up.

“Hey, Gav, you dropped something.” He froze, keeping his face carefully blank even as time seemed to slow to a crawl. “What is this thing?”

Jack turned around before Gavin fully could and the look on the man’s face told him all he needed to know. His communicator from 6 had fallen out of his pocket, Jack recognized it as being similar to Ray’s, and he was fucked.

–

Ryan woke with a start, looking around the room, one hand on his pistol. It was empty, he was alone. He frowned, tapping his communicator and looking for Gavin’s signal. The other man’s signature was gone. Turning to the laptop, he pulled up the full map, blue eyes searching the screen for the dot that would indicate Gavin’s last position.

According to the computer, his communicator had last been active just outside the apartment almost an hour ago. Ryan frowned, looking around again. Gavin was definitely gone and his communicator was off. Which meant something wasn’t right.

There wasn’t time to worry about it, unfortunately. Whatever Gavin was doing, Ryan would deal with him later. For now, he had to find Ray.

He’d traced the younger man’s communicator the previous night after Gavin had fallen asleep. It was in distress mode, a fact that made his heart nearly stop in his chest. Distress mode wasn’t a feature that could be activated by a user, it was a background program that turned on in the event of an unauthorized device connecting to the wrist-mounted computer. If distress mode was active, it meant Ray wasn’t the one using his communicator… which more than likely meant Ray had been captured. He’d shut the device down remotely to prevent any more information from being extracted from it, before resuming waiting for the remaining member of his team, just in case. Ryan had fallen asleep watching the door, hoping it was a fluke and Ray would come in sometime during the night.

That hadn’t happened, of course, and now Gavin was gone too. Without much choice, Ryan plugged the coordinates of Ray’s last known location into his own wristmap. He probably wasn’t there still, but it was at least a place to start. The older spy suited up, chewing his lip nervously as he got his gear together. A daytime operation wasn’t exactly the best for stealth, but he couldn’t bear to wait until night time.

And when he got Ray back he’d hunt Gavin down. He had more than a few questions for the Brit.

–

Ray didn’t move when he came to, keeping his eyes shut and his breathing steady. He was alone in the room and he needed those few moments before his captors knew he was awake to collect his thoughts.

His right hand was screaming pain at the end of his arm, something he resolutely shut out. He hadn’t told them anything yet and if they wanted answers they’d need him alive. That was what he had to focus on, what happened in Puerto Rico was the past, it was as dead as the rest of the men in that room. He couldn’t let worries like that get in the way of his focus.

Mentally nodding, Ray began to assess his situation. They needed him alive… he could handle the pain pretty well with the fear of death gone. They had his gear including his communicator. If they were extremely dumb, Ryan and Gavin would be on the way to his exact location, following the signal transmitted by his communicator. Even if they’d shut it off, the last known location would give them away. Now that he was alone, his panic subsided; he knew that the other two would come rescue him.

The fucking psycho that had shattered his hand wouldn’t be able to hurt him anymore pretty soon. Gavin and Ryan would see to that.

He kind of hoped they’d let him kill the guy.

With the mental assessment done, Ray made himself jerk as if he were waking up. He gasped in a ragged breath, throwing his head back and screaming.

–

Ryan heard yelling through the walls of the building Ray’s last signal had come from. He tensed, crouching by the window and using a mirror to look inside, his eyes going wide.

It was the Hunters, of course, but that wasn’t what made his eyes widen. The situation seen through the window was so far from anything he’d expected it took a moment or two for the entire thing to process.

Two of the men were standing, guns drawn, one by a simple wooden door that led deeper into the apartment and the other next to a complicated computer set-up. A third and fourth man stood at the other side of the room. The third man also had a handgun out, pressed to the temple of the fourth, one arm locked firmly around his throat. The man with the gun was yelling, making sharp demands. The fourth man was also speaking, though his voice was lost under the yelling. He was clawing at the man’s arm around his throat, his eyes wide and desperate.

It was Gavin.

Ryan forced himself to remain calm, to not go rushing in. He put his mirror away, slipping around the corner to the front door. Pulling charges from his backpack, he carefully set them on the door. If anyone tried to leave they’d be blown to pieces, or he could detonate them remotely. Task done, he continued around the building.

There wasn’t another window, just the one he had first looked through, and the yelling inside continued. Ducking under the window, he pulled out his handgun, risking a glance upwards to get everyone’s positions. One hand held his gun, the other getting ready to depress the button to detonate the front door.

–

“Geoff, please! I can explain!” Gavin cried, clawing at the man’s arm around his throat. He flinched away from the press of a gun to his temple, forcing tears to his eyes.

“You keep sayin’ that, but you sure as shit ain’t explaining yourself, Gavin!” Geoff shouted back. “Why do you have one of their fucking communicators?!”

“L-let me go, I can’t breathe!”

“If you can whine you can breathe! Start fucking talking!”

Gavin swallowed, pulling more desperately at the muscled arm around his throat. He didn’t have an explanation, of course, nothing had ever prepared him for this situation. The screaming from the other room wasn’t even providing enough of a distraction to let him slip free of Geoff’s grip—and if he did that, Jack or Michael would likely shoot him.

“I don’t hear any answers, Gavin!” Geoff snapped, jerking him upwards by the neck. “Why do you have one of 6’s communicators?!”

Before Gavin could even try to answer, the front door exploded.

_Ryan_. He had time to think. He jerked away from Geoff just as the window blew inward, hearing a bullet whiz by his head. “Window!” He shouted, ducking backwards, knocking the tattooed man to the floor. Geoff cried out, his gun firing into the ceiling. Gavin couldn’t see through the choking smoke from the wreck of the front door, but he knew what he had to do.

He turned, sprinting through the smoke and out the door, dropping his cell phone from the Hunters as he sprinted away down the street.

–

Michael turned towards the window when he heard Gavin shout, turning his gun instinctively. He fired a shot, knowing it had gone high and left even without seeing the bullet hole appear in the wall above the window. Things were happening far too quickly and he didn’t know what was going on. Geoff was shouting from the floor, thick smoke was filling the room, choking them. Jack cried out near the computer, sparks lighting the room as another deafening gunshot sounded. Michael hit the floor, feeling slow, unable to react to anything that was happening around him.

A heavy boot connected with his temple, turning the world black around him. Shouts followed him into darkness.

–

Ray fought against his binds as shouts and gunshots began outside the room, hoping it was his rescue on the way. Hoping and praying they’d be able to get him out of here. His hand was ignored in favor of escape efforts, every gunshot making him flinch.

When the door opened he looked up with hope, swallowing hard to see one of the Hunters, a big guy with a beard. Ryan stepped in right behind him, though, his gun to the big guy’s head. “Uncuff him.” The brunette man growled out, not taking his eyes off the bearded man. Ray tensed as he was uncuffed, carefully getting to his feet and hurrying towards Ryan.

“Stay there.” Ryan commanded, slowly stepping backwards, guiding Ray out with him. He shut the door, flicking the lock on it and turning, pointing his gun past Ray. The two of them stepped over an unmoving, prone form, Ray flinching away from him slightly. It was the curly-haired psycho from that had broken his hand. He couldn’t tell if the guy was dead or just unconscious, didn’t want to be close in case it was the latter.

“Ry—“

“Not now.” The older man stepped around him, crouching and putting his gun to another man’s head, a guy who’s arms were covered with tattoos. Blood was rushing from a wound on his upper arm. “Where did the other one go?” He snarled out, giving the man a slight shove.

“Who?” The guy groaned, reaching up and setting a hand over his bleeding arm, moving slowly and carefully to indicate he wasn’t trying to attack.

“The one you had at gunpoint, fuckface.”

“Gavin? I don’t…” The guy groaned again, closing his eyes. “Gavin’s a fucking traitor… Griffon was right, holy fuckballs.”

Sirens in the distance. Ray looked around, cradling his shattered hand. “We have to go.”

“Look at me.” Ryan didn’t seem to hear him, his eyes still locked on the guy on the floor. When he opened his eyes, Ryan nodded slightly. “Who’s Griffon?”

Another groan, the guy shaking his head. “My wife. Doesn’t work for us. You keep her out of this or I’ll destroy you.”

Ryan stood, looking around and frowning, his gun still pointed at the guy on the floor. “What do you mean, Gavin’s a traitor?”

“He works for me. Or I thought he did. Had a communicator from 6—that’s you motherfuckers.”

“Ryan, we really need to go—“

Again he was ignored, Ryan looking around at the destructions around them. “I won’t make a widow. That’s a gift.” He stated, turning to Ray. “We’re leaving.”

Ray nodded, stumbling behind him out the door. He groaned as they walked away, looking around. “Tell me your transport is nearby.”

“A car three blocks away. You’re going to the emergency room. Start thinking of a reason. There’s a change of clothes for you in the back seat.” Ryan’s voice was still tense, his eyes still trying to be everywhere at once.

“What was that about Gavin?”

“I’ll explain it later.”

–

Geoff groaned, slowly sitting up against the wall, keeping his hand to his bleeding shoulder. The bullet had only grazed him, but it hurt like a son of a bitch. “Jack?” He called, looking around the room, the smoke slowly clearing. “Michael?”

“I’m locked in the interrogation room!” Jack called back, his voice muffled by the heavy door. “What the fuck happened?”

“They’re gone. You see Michael anywhere?”

A groan answered him, the auburn-haired man lifting a hand from the floor. He dropped it after a moment, not attempting any other kind of communication. The confirmation that he was alive was enough for Geoff.

–

Gavin pulled his emergency phone from his pocket as he ran, powering it on and calling the only contact listed.

“49374F? You’re off-schedule.” The voice on the other end answered, immediately concerned. “What’s wrong?”

Wracking his brain for the right codes, the Brit slowed to a jog, breathing heavily. “Situation 87Alpha, code in sparrow. I’m busted, b. They caught me. I ran but they’ll be after me. The whole thing is a bust. Need emergency pick-up, uh, corner of West 5th and… bollocks, there’s no sign for the cross street here.”

“It’s alright, we have a trace on your phone. Pick-up will be arriving shortly, 2010 Dodge Journey, navy blue. They’ll code with scenario 479.” Dan’s voice was coolly professional on the other end of the phone, and Gavin felt his heart rate slowing down just to hear it. Something was wrong, though… scenario 479 was an information drop, not an emergency pick-up. Had Dan misspoke?

“Confirm, scenario 479?” Gavin repeated, swallowing hard. Was something wrong on the other man’s end of the line?

“479, confirm. Routine, 49374F. Terminating call, you can shut the phone off now.”

Hanging up, Gavin shut down the phone. He pulled a second electronic device from the hidden pocket he dropped the phone into, pulling up information he’d taken from the computer at 6 over the last few nights. At least he had something to drop.

–

Dan carefully rewound the audio recording before calling in for Gavin’s pick-up, replacing Gavin’s half of the conversation with audio clips that indicated he was calling for an information drop. Off-schedule still, but it was better than being busted. Being busted was nothing short of a death sentence.

Granted, the man mused as he placed the call for the nondescript car to pick Gavin up, the little bit of audio engineering he’d just done was also a death sentence. With any luck, no one would look too closely at the files behind the call log.

He’d have to get in touch with Gavin on a secure, independent line soon and find out what had gone down. Then he’d have to find a way for the two of them to disappear.

**Author's Note:**

> I changed some of the language used in this chapter, and may make similar changes in the future. The original version posted to tumblr hasn't been changed.


End file.
